Sharing the bed
by Companion of Insanity
Summary: Danny just doesn't sleep well at night. Ever. Vlad was about to find this out the hard way. ***TAGS***-Danny's 18, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Nightmares, Dreams and Nightmares, Ice Powers, Some angst


"So, we're really doing this," Danny says, looking down, "We're really gonna try sleeping in the same bed."

"You make it sound as though this is an impossible task. I sleep rather soundly, Daniel." Vlad smiles and deposits his robe on a nearby chair. As he pulls back the violet comforter, the younger halfa nervously shifts on his feet.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea. I mean, I want to, but..." Danny doesn't exactly sleep like a rock. Not since he got his powers. And there's a look of discomfort and uncertainty that's blended with shame. It makes Vlad raise a brow, but only for a moment.

"Now, now, little badger," Vlad gets into bed and pulls back the other corner for Danny, "I promise I won't smother you in your sleep."

Danny finally climbs in, albeit unsure of himself. He sleeps all over his bed at home. He kicks, fusses, twists, turns, flops, punches, and overall just tears it apart. He's even managed to tangle the sheets around his legs before, exposing the mattress. There's almost no sleepovers in his room as a result. Danny hates sharing his blankets, too, preferring to cocoon himself. At least until he throws himself all over his bed.

This was going to be an interesting night.

Perhaps Vlad should have pressed further at Danny's discomfort before laying down for the night. He woke with a start a little after midnight to Danny kicking him in his shin. Hard. Vlad peeled the cover back briefly and saw his leg practically turn black.

While he had settled into one position and held it until then, Danny had done anything but. Vlad had curled onto his side quite comfortably. Danny was in a tight fetal position and his pillow was jammed under his hip. It made the older halfa stare at the display in confusion. Somewhere between the sheet and blanket, muttered whispers were being lost and the boy's face scrunched up as if in pain.

But, ultimately, Vlad put that on the back burner and curled back up, drifting off rather quickly.

An hour and a half later, Vlad woke to being kicked again, this time in the ribs. He jolted up from the bed sharply, pushing his hair out of his face. Danny had turned about ninety degrees and physically opened up a bit, but his hands were clawing at the blankets. His black hair was thoroughly matted, and his head was nearly hanging off the edge of the bed.

Vlad sighed and rolled over, too tired to deal with it. Not twenty minutes later, there was a sharp punch to his hip. Frustration and exhaustion were the root of his attempt to grab at the boy, who had flipped over to his other side. Danny's pillow was on the floor by now, and his legs were jerking and twitching, almost trying to kick again.

When Vlad grabbed his wrists, Danny went into a frenzy. And screamed. Within the bonds of sleep, Danny kicked and pulled and fussed to get himself free from the other halfa's grasp. Vlad found himself resisting a flailing teenager and frostbite as ice shot up his arms to engulf him.

It was then that he finally understood. Danny was suffering from night terrors. So, he did the only thing he could since the boy was thrashing too violently to be comforted.

The darkened room was suddenly lit a vibrant pink, flashing and pulsing in spectacular fashion. The ice that had crawled up Vlad's arms melted away almost instantly. As Danny's body contorted under the onslaught of electricity, Vlad held, watched, and waited because the boy was still fighting him.

Inside Danny's brain was an array of colors and faces, demons and monsters tearing at him in all directions. Some were familiar, some warped, others foreign or self made. When Vlad's electricity surged through his body, faces gave way to just flashing colors. Mostly reds and greens. Somewhere in there he could feel the pain.

After five full minutes, Vlad let go of his wrists, and the younger halfa collapsed against the bed like a lead weight. His chest rose and fell rapidly, heaving, but he was no longer flailing and kicking.

Sighing heavily and feeling unbearably guilty, Vlad pulled him into an embrace from behind, bringing the blanket over them both. Tilting his head, he placed a gentle kiss to the boy's temple and settled against the mattress.

"What am I going to do with you, badger?"

Eventually Danny stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal. Vlad went back to sleep after another long and agonizing hour passed.

Morning came with a forgiving sun clouded over, gray and rainy. Dull. Quiet. The chirps of early birds would not have been welcome. Instead, the gentle patter of thick droplets against the window greeted Vlad as his eyes opened. He was so tired. But at least Danny hadn't moved so much as an inch after last night.

That led to concern as to whether the boy was in blissful sleep or in a state of unconsciousness. He's also mildly worried about Danny's wrists.

Within his arms, Danny's breathing is regulated and calm. Vlad pulls away and sits up. It's when he starts to reach for the halfa's bony wrists that Danny shifts a bit. He mumbles incoherently and kind of scoots over a bit towards the older man. After all, a nice source of warmth moved away from him.

Vlad can't help himself. He immediately curls back up, tucking Danny's head under his chin and tangling their legs. He never thought that sharing his core energy would be so enjoyable. Having Danny in his arms like a doll, he can feel the cold of his ice core seeping into his chest. It's the most comfort he's had in quite some time.

The older halfa was content to cuddle like an over-sized teddy bear until the sun gave out, until...

"Why are my wrists black?"

Vlad's heart and core almost do a dance just from hearing the boy's voice. He feels a weight being lifted from his entire body. "You had a rough night."

Danny doesn't snap or complain, doesn't sigh or curse. Because he understands. He knows what he's like in sleep.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks.

"It's nothing that won't heal by lunchtime. Those scrawny legs of yours pack quite a wallop."


End file.
